Mine Enemy
by Ayrith
Summary: Her father taught her that youkai with human faces were dangerous. He should have warned her about hanyous.
1. Day 1

**Chapter 1: Day 1**

Inuyasha's claws were arranged like a row of daggers against her upper thigh.

Sango tried to ignore it. He was not hurting her; in fact, he was bearing all her injured weight up the rocky, dangerous slope leading to the sacred cave of Midoriko. But the skirts of her dress were tangled at her knees and she could feel the keen edge of his thumb against the flesh of her calf. It was a pointed reminder that while the warm, heaving back beneath her arms felt and smelled human it was not. Worse, Inuyasha was not just any demon, he was one of _those, _the ones that walked among humans: deceiver, shape shifter…predator.

Sango drew in a shallow breath, trying to touch him as little as possible. She could hardly breathe with the bandages around her chest. Every finger was splinted, every joint padded and soaked with numbing salve. She was half drugged and she knew it; it was the only reason she was clinging to this hanyou's back and not fighting for blade-length distance. She hadn't even tried to argue when Kagome had _assumed _she would be okay with being carried by the man she had tried hours before to kill. No, she wasn't okay. But she couldn't fight everything, not with the image of her family, the night at the castle, on constant repeat every time she closed her eyes.

_The goal_, she thought. _The goal only matters_. And yet…what would her father say…

Sango reeled away from that thought fast, feeling the tight burn of breathing too much, too soon. Instead, she let her head fall forward and eyes close, forcing a slow exhale. The mountain smelled of mineral and cold springs, of baked wood and tilled soil. It reminded her of the man who tended her wounds when she first woke, no longer buried in the earth. Inky, wavy hair and violet eyes, leaning over her. His fingers brushing her bangs. He had whispered something and she had only been grateful to breathe.

She felt only numbness now.

There was a pause in the steady rocking of Inuyasha's footsteps. He was craning his neck, looking at her with a guarded eye. Yellow and cold like the wolves. Her throat closed for a moment and her hand moved to grapple clumsily at her hip for a blade that was not there.

Kagome was beside her before she could, a hand on her knee. "Which way?" she asked gently.

Sango looked around a canopy of trees, a cascade of rocks on a rising slope, a small winding path. She pointed to it.

The trek up the mountain was as difficult as it always was. Mist clung low to the ground and the moss on the rocks made the path slippery. It was made worse by the dizziness in her head, a steady buzz that grew louder as they climbed in altitude. At some point, her breathing started to come short, desperate. She didn't want to faint—not here, not in front of them—but the longer they climbed, the more she felt as though she was clinging to a precipice by the tips of her fingers.

Only once did she lose her cool. Somewhere between the halfway mark, when Miroku and Kagome had lagged far behind, Inuyasha missed a step. His foot came down on a stone that sunk beneath their weight. His response was quick; a small half-step, a pivot on his heel, and he had recovered. But when his claws tightened on her legs as he corrected himself, claws sliding sharply down her thigh, Sango planted her hands on his shoulders and pushed so hard they almost toppled down.

"What the—crazy bitch—" Inuyasha spun to look at her, but rather than his face she saw that _man_. His eyes a handful of dusty stars. The scar puckering slightly along his jaw. His secret smile, petals like blades, and the way he said, _little fool_.

"Stop" she grit, eyes spinning_, _pushing as hard as she could until suddenly her wrists were trapped, her back was against a rock, and her vision was filled with silver and fire, amber sparking close to her skin.

"_Hey_." It was Inuyasha, and his expression was serious. "_Taijya_. It's me."

She took a few deep breaths, felt the panic dwindle back down to a tight ball deep in her chest. The rock against her back was steady. The thrum in her head slowed.

After a moment, she said, "I know."

Inuyasha's eyes narrowed. "Then stop calling me _Naraku_."

He might as well have punched her. She flinched, feeling the fluttering of memories stir, but she clamped down. Hard. Suddenly, the places were their skin met felt on fire. "Let go," Sango whispered furiously.

Surprisingly, he did. She wasn't ready for it. Her knees buckled and she would have banged her head against the stone if Inuyasha had not grabbed her by the shoulders.

"Idiot," he bit out. When she tried to grab at his wrists, he shook her. "What do you know?" He was in her face now and his expression was hard. "Or is it just more bullshit?"

She didn't. She wouldn't.

"I _don't know_," she snapped. Her throat threatened to close up. "We're wasting time." Her eyes flickered behind him and Inuyasha looked as well. A few feet below, the monk was helping Kagome over a particularly large boulder. He seemed completely absorbed, but for a moment, his eyes flashed up and he looked at Inuyasha. Something was said there because a second later the hanyou turned away with a derisive 'keh'.

Quite suddenly, Sango was presented with his back. "Get on," Inuyasha grunted. She hesitated only a moment, before another spell of dizziness made her wrap her arms around his neck. She bit down on a yelp when he abruptly grabbed her legs, claws pricking under her knees. "And this time," he continued, "stay the fuck on."

She might have cursed him. Or shoved him off a cliff and dragged herself up the mountain by her fingers. But her mind hadn't heard him, immediately rooted to those claws dancing along her legs and the sound of her father's voice whispering over and over in her ear.

_The ones with the human faces…they are the most dangerous._


	2. Day 15

**Chapter 2: Day 15**

Kagome was fast asleep, the fox curled around her belly. Sango's hands itched for her weapon, but there wasn't a point, really. The bandages around her abdomen were too stiff, and without the jewel shard in her back she wasn't very fast. If the kitsune decided to make a move—which she admitted was unlikely, but possible—there wasn't much Sango could do on the other side of the campfire.

Her nightly dilemma, it seemed. Sango sighed.

They had left the Taijya village a fortnight ago. Her strange companions had been oddly kind, helping her with the burying of the dead, allowing her to rest, but within a few days Sango started to feel stifled. She wanted to hunt down Naraku immediately—every day, the trail grew colder, her memory of the castle less distinct. The hanyou, of course, had been all too ready to leave weeks ago. It was the monk and Kagome that were less sure, wanting Sango to rest. Still, she had convinced them that she was fine. The night they set out she felt an odd form of accomplishment.

Until she had seen the kitsune snuggle into Kagome's bed roll like he belonged there.

The next day, she got Kagome alone. "Why do you sleep with the kit?"

"What?" Kagome was busy putting away these weird metal dishes that they had used to cook.

"He isn't yours; why do you sleep with him?" Sango persisted.

Kagome paused, her nose scrunching. "I don't understand," she said slowly. "Don't you sleep with Kirara?"

Sango had dropped it, because it was clear Kagome had no idea what she was asking. It was not the same thing. Youkai by nature were not evil, just as human's by nature were not good. This her father had stressed all her life, and it was the main reason he had insisted Sango train with Kirara since girlhood in the first place. But the walkers, those that took on human form, were by choice duplicitous. Bewitchment, enchantment, illusion. And for those that could not sense the youkia's spiritual energy, the _yoki_…

All walkers were _predators_. Beneath they're pretty facades, their sweet words and voices, were creatures whose nature was to feed.

It was clear to Sango that Kagome had not been taught these distinctions. Unfortunately, not many were and it was why the job of a Taijya was so important. Part of her wanted to shrug her shoulders and move on, because you couldn't save everyone. She knew this; it had been drilled in her head day in and day out, especially after a hunt that went poorly or a village they had failed to save. Maybe Kagome would be fine today, and tomorrow. Maybe the kitsune child would never harm a hair on her head; often, familial attachments could override primitive instincts at the onset of youkai's transition to adulthood. But that didn't mean Kagome shouldn't _know_ that on another day, with another demon, everything might change.

Kagome mumbled something in her sleep. Long lashes lay quiet against her pale cheeks. Sango sighed. She pressed her back more firmly into the tree. Her vigil would be quiet and long.

A twig snapped to her left and instinctively Sango whirled to her knees. Bright yellow eyes burned into her face a yard away, causing her heart to jump. If he were a little closer—Sango's fingers twitched, before she forcibly relaxed them against the sheathed dagger at her hip.

Inuyasha sat easily on his haunches, claws idly carving the dirt beneath him. Small grooves raced up and down the earth beneath his feet. His expression was unreadable. The light of the fire flickered, catching the sharp lines of his cheekbones, the straight nose, the long curling lashes around those bright, glowing eyes.

Her heart skipped again. Sango grit her teeth, looking at the ground.

"Go to sleep."

She jumped, glancing up in surprise. Inuyasha was glaring, but it had definitely been him. His voice had a certain…sound. Her heart was beating too fast and it was pissing her off that she could hardly hear her own thoughts over its incessant tattoo. She cleared her throat.

"I intend to," Sango said shortly. Kirara was off hunting, and now a days, she could hardly close her eyes without the feel of that fur against her back.

Inuyasha grunted, his lips an angry line. After a moment, he said, "Nothing's going to change."

Sango blinked slowly. "Excuse me?"

"_Her_." Inuyasha shrugged his shoulder in the direction of Kagome. "It doesn't matter what you say to her, she's fucking stubborn." She must have looked surprised, because he sneered. "Do you think I have these ears because I like them? You were fucking loud as hell, asking her about the kit." He paused, eyes drifting back to Kagome. "If she listened, I'd have sent her home ages ago."

Sango stared at the ground at his feet, feeling her muscles tighten with every breathe. "I see," she said, feeling cold. "So you just let her walk with danger because she _won't listen_."

Inuyasha bared fangs. She almost smiled at it. Talking made things confusing. It was too easy to be lulled into complacency, or worse, let her mind fool herself into thinking everything was normal. Threats, she knew how to deal with. Fights, she maybe even loved. Simple, black and white, right and wrong.

Inuyasha clenched a fist in the dirt. "You can _shut up_. You don't know what you're talking about."

_Kohaku squinted in the light, waving his sickle awkwardly at a a fly buzzing near his face and causing Sango's pulse to stutter until he put it down. He was hesitant. "Do you think…do you think I'll do okay?"_

_She held her breath. There was love, and it took all the choices she wanted to make and left her with only the choices she couldn't refuse. "Of course you will."_

Don't_ know? _Like she didn't _know_ what it meant to make risky choices for someone she loved? Sango narrowed her eyes. Suddenly, she could hardly restrain herself from wanting to punch his jaw out over and over again. "Why don't you just stop there," she warned.

Inuyasha keh'd, standing to his feet. He began walking towards the trees.

_Didn't know. _Like he had even an inkling of what her family meant to her. He couldn't. He was just a…

"Hanyou," she scoffed, turning her back to his retreating form.

She didn't see it coming. One moment she was turning to look at Kagome, the next Sango was shoved forward on her knees, a clawed hand around her neck. Her ribs shrieked in protest. Instinctually, she let the blade on her arm shear free from its sleeve and aimed it back, only for a familiar clawed hand to grab her elbow and grind her arm into the ground. She struggled forward, trying to push up with her other arm.

His weight hit her like a rock. She hit the ground, gasping around a mouthful of dirt. Hot breath stirred the hairs around her ear.

"Your attitude is starting to piss me off," he growled lowly.

Sango forced her head to the side, spitting dirt between her teeth. Her eyes stopped at her arm blade. He was gripping the blade by the shaft. It had cut so deep she could see the white of bone.

Something in her quieted. She fisted the ground, feeling the needle-like leaves prick on her skin.

"Get off me," she said, trembling. She turned to his see his face, angry and so much like—her breath caught and she blinked painfully at the ground. "Get. Off."

She felt his body shift, felt the grip on her neck lessen. He was confused, she could tell. He wanted to understand what she meant, by her words, by her actions. But he wasn't getting _off_. She gasped a breath, growling out "If you _don't_…" and than _jerked_ her blade back.

Her blade met air as he whipped his head back. Then, just as quickly as he had come, Inuyasha was gone. Sango scrambled forward and turned around just as Inuyasha landed in a crouch near the tree line. Amber eyes gleamed at her like faceted gems in sunlight. He didn't look at his hand, even as he idly raised it to his lips and licked. She was shaking.

"Don't. Do that. Again." She forced out between heart beats. _Or I will kill you. _The last, though unspoken, was loud and clear.

After a moment, Inuyasha stood up to his full height and crossed his arms. His expression was guarded as he stared down at her. There was something assessing there that she had never seen before—had not thought him capable of.

"Go to sleep," he growled He waited expectantly, but when she did not move, snorted. "Fucking stubborn," he muttered and turned on his heel. In a moment, he had faded into the shadows, as quietly as if he had never been.

Sango didn't care. She wasn't paying attention anymore. She just stared straight ahead, blood pounding.

The forest was dark. Quiet. Eventually, the roar in her head was little more than the rustle of grass by the wind and the crackle of timber.

Slowly, Sango's attention drifted up to the campfire. Kagome was murmuring in her sleep, shifting restlessly in her bag as Shippou slept blissfully on. Sango watched her for a long moment before she carefully scooted back, pressing the bark of a tree tightly to her spine.

She did not go to sleep that night.


	3. Day 17

**Chapter 3: Day 17**

Two days later and she awoke to the sound of cicadas and a persistent buzz, almost like a beehive was near by. Her hand moved silently to her blade. Kirara gave a little murmur in her throat, still in her large form, eyes slitted and red in the dark. Sango put a hand on her chest.

Something was creeping around the brush. It was being careful. She could hear only the barest stir of leaves and a hypnotic, insect-like hum. Sinking further into the curl of Kirara's body, Sango very slowly moved her head so it appeared she was resting on her side. Eyes narrowed, she peered across the camp.

It sounded like a colony demon. They had some of them up north, closer to the mountains and where there was plenty of room to create their elaborate honey comb caves. Some toxin in their saliva turned stone a pearlescent color. There was a saying amongst the Taijya that if you entered a cave as white as the moon, leave immediately. That, or bring a torch.

The problem with these demons was that like ants, they sent out scouts to retrieve human prey to bring back to the nest. Their throats produced a hypnotizing lullaby that kept prey peaceful and still as they were carried off. Worse, they preferred children.

The sound of this type of demon was one of the first things Sango had learned as a child. Her father, newly widowed and carrying for the sickly Kohaku, had taught his three year old daughter how the cicadas always clicked feverishly, how the smell of sweet grass always grew thick in the air, and how she should always come and get him whenever she grew sleepy. They had made a game of it then, but now Sango remembered how tired and pale he always seemed. She wondered how many nights he spent at her bedside after putting Kohaku to sleep, keeping vigilance while she slept.

A rustle of a tree branch drew Sango's attention to the west. It seemed to be circling, making occasionally clicks. Sango glanced at the fire, then at Kagome and the kitsune sleeping against a nearby tree. Her lips thinned—she had never liked how this group seemed content to sleep out in the open. She hadn't mentioned it before—too busy keeping her distance, the line drawn between them clear. Now, she would have to be swift. A roll to the left, towards the fire where she could grab a lit branch. Insect demons hated smoke. Feeling her palms begin to sweat, Sango readjusted her grip on her blade and prepared to signal Kirara.

"It's back, isn't it?" came a whisper.

Sango stilled, tensing. Her eyes darted to the left, where the light of the fire cast a faint shadow on the monk's features. He was reclined against a tree, posture relaxed and affecting sleep, but there was a curious tilt to his head that was too thoughtful. He also seemed to be addressing something beside him.

Sango waited a breath and was rewarded when there was a slight thump and Inuyasha appeared, crouched at Miroku's elbow.

"No," he grunted back. "I killed the other one—" Other one? Sango thought, alarmed, "—but these bastard like to hunt in pairs." There was a pause. "How are the wards?"

Miroku tilted his head a little more, eyes still closed. "Holding. It knows we are here, but it can't tell where. The repulsion charm should be enough."

Repulsion charms, Sango thought. She had heard of those, but only at expensive establishments which could be lavish with their wealth. While her father had never invested in any, he had said they were quite powerful. And that a monk that could perform one was worth far more than the thousands of mon it would take to even get a small ward.

There was a moment of silence between the men. Inuyasha picked up a small branch off the ground and began delicately carving it with a nail. Sango shuddered slightly at such a careless act, thinking of how those same claws this morning had shredded youkai flesh like rice paper.

Miroku cracked open an eye, stark blue even from this distance. "Do you know why they are falling us?"

She saw Inuyasha glance up at her, amber eyes like torches, and she quickly closed her own, heart beating fast. He grunted in the affirmative and made a gesture she did not see, but knew well was directed at her.

He was blaming her? How typical. She slitted open her eyes and watched him turn back to his tree branch.

Miroku studied him a moment. "I thought they are attracted to children," he said finally.

She watched Inuyasha shake his head. "It's not the children," he said quietly.

Sango couldn't take it anymore. She sat up abruptly, pushing her bangs from her eyes. "And would you know that?"

Miroku jumped a little, eyes flicking open to look at where she and Kirara lay. Inuyasha however, began to grumble and glower at his stick. _He knew I was awake, _she thought.

"Sango," Miroku said, but she ignored him and fixed narrowed eyes on Inuyasha. He stubbornly refused to look back at her.

"Well?" she demanded.

After a moment, he turned cold eyes on her. "Not that it is any of your damn business," he said. "But I used to run into a lot of them as a kid."

"And?," she said shortly. "We all have. That hardly means—"

"It's the smell," he interrupted.

"_Smell?"_

He scowled at her expression. "Fear gives off a scent on its own. The _biyosho _drink it the way you do water. They use it to spin their cocoons. That is why if you get touched by one, you can't control your fear anymore. It consumes you."

Like she would ever let such a thing touch her. "If that is true, then why children? Why is it always the children?"

He broke off a protruding stem off his branch, face closed. "Children feel more helpless. They give into their nightmares more easily," He wasn't looking at her, but he might as well have. "Their fear is more…"

He didn't continue, but Sango knew where he was going. "Appetizing?" she spat.

He sighed. "You wouldn't understand."

"You are right," she said quietly, getting to her feet. Her fingers trembled. "I _wouldn't._"

She drew her blade, feeling the delicious thrill of metal against metal sheath. She saw Miroku grip his staff and felt a surge of betrayal—he was a human, but he would defend this _hanyou_ first. But Inuyasha didn't blink an eyelash. He stared at her hard, amber eyes hot and swimming, and even across the distance she had to stifle her rising pulse.

"Excuse me," she said frostily. "But I am going to go kill that thing so that it doesn't get bored and go steal someone's _child_." She turned on her heel swiftly and stalked into the brush. When Kirara tried to rise as she passed, she waved her down. This was her kill.

She was tired of being afraid.

The nightmares hadn't ceased. The ones that had plagued her every night since she'd awoken to the feel of dirt on her face. Ever since, she had awoken from terrible, gut wrenching fear, and even now she could feel that insect hum like a caress on her senses, enticing _her_.

He said it so like it was nothing. Helpless. Afraid. But these were real, terrifying feelings to her, things she couldn't tolerate if she wanted to move forward even another day. She had gotten used to biting her tongue and wiping at her face and thinking, _its morning and I'm alive._

But it wasn't enough. It would never be enough. And she was sick of pretending it would one day.

She found the youkai, slithering anxiously against a line of ofuda. She cut it down with a single stroke and torched it, staying to watch it burn and crumble like dust.

She remembered how terrified she had been as a child of this thing and yet knowing that she could not let Daddy know, because he would worry. Because he might start crying again. Now faced with it, it seemed almost pitable. Pathetic.

When she returned to camp, the fire had dwindled low. Miroku was asleep, or feigning it, and Inuyasha was nowhere to be seen. Feeling exhausted, she buckled down next to Kirara, curling into her mane. She almost didn't feel the scrutiny of eyes somewhere in the dark.

There were still nightmares though. Of course there were.


	4. Day 20

**Chapter 4: Day 20**

_She lay on the floor, under a blanket smelling of clean soap. The maids had cleaned her up as best they could, but she had felt their stares like lacerations on her skin. There was a wound on her stomach that had barely missed her intestines, a deep gouge on her back where her brother's sickle had missed her spine. The doctor couldn't be sure, he told her as he stitched up the wounds, that she would be able to have children._

_She had never wanted any—but now, the thought made her want to cry._

_The prince, Lord Kagewaki, insisted on attending her bedside. He knelt at her head, staring passively outside while a maid peeled down the back of her chest wrap to clean away her blood. She was bleeding, always bleeding. The pain was unbearable. With each pass of the course linin against her spine, blackness surged to overwhelm her. She'd fix her eyes on the prince's silhouette, the cascade of his long wavy black hair, and breathe through her teeth. She would _not die_._

_That first night, she barely managed it. He had murmured, _How strong_, as she swam in and out of consciousness. She couldn't be be sure—perhaps she had dreamed it—but she thought she had felt a hand gently touch her hair._

"Sango?"

Sango turned away from her reflection in the stream, which she had been contemplating. The skin on her back stretched painfully taut. Ignoring it, she looked at Kagome, who was kneeling beside her and viciously scrubbing at one of her many odd shirts. The girl had a peculiar desire for cleanliness but strangely, hated doing the washing. She'd started muttering about 'machines' some time ago and Sango had started drifting off.

"Yes?" Sango responded.

"Oh, well umm…" Kagome began, suddenly shy, "while we were out here, I was hoping we could talk about something…"

Sango waited patiently, but Kagome trailed off, suddenly riveted in scrubbing the color right out of her shirt. Her checks were pink. Sango looked down at her own kisode, the checkered pink material still browned with dust, and slowly began to scrub it.

Kagome took a deep breath. "So as you've probably noticed, I'm not really from around here…"

Sango glanced at Kagome's skirt. "Hmm."

A deeper flush. "Well… I don't think any of us have explained exactly how far away," she finished, folding her shirt in her lap.

"Hmm." There was a tear here. Sango frowned at the finger she had wiggled through the fabric. After a moment, she realized Kagome was staring at her, chewing her lip.

"What," Kagome began haltingly, "do you think about the future?"

"The future?" Sango sighed, wondering if she still had her patching needle. "I don't spend much time thinking about it."

"Well what if," Kagome began carefully, "I said that in 500 years, demons no longer exist?"

Sango paused. "I wouldn't believe you."

"Well its true," Kagome said, folding her shirt and turning to her pack. "In 500 years, there are no demons. The villages are so large they cut down most of the trees and replaced them with large stone structures that are hundreds of meters high."

Sango stared at her warily. "Why?"

"So many people," Kagome said. "There are millions of people in the future. And not just in Japan, but all over the world."

Now that Sango could not believe. The Taijya fortress had been fifty men and women strong, one of the largest villages in the area. The land they occupied spanned many acres. But still, it took three days travelling south by the main road before they saw another soul.

Kagome seemed to guess her expression, because she began to pull books out of her bag. Sango had seen her carrying the bound paper stacks before, but she hadn't really looked at them. They were strange, smooth objects with trim edges, unlike the fancy parchment her grandmother used to hoard in the floorboards. When Kagome held one out to her, she took it gingerly between her fingers.

When she opened it, she stared at the first page for a long time.

"Are you a witch?" she asked at last.

Kagome shook her head. She scooted forward on her knees and her hair brushed against Sango's arm, startling her. It was surprisingly soft, like the down feathers of a bird.

"That," she said softly, "is my home."

* * *

><p>Kagome talked for a long time. Surprisingly, Sango felt compelled to listen.<p>

It was quite crazy. Insane. Sango didn't understand half of what she said. But the girl wasn't lying either. Her eyes were clear and focused, not shifting up or away when she spoke. She didn't rub her hands or make unnecessary movements. Her grip was unwavering and firm. Sango had learned to trust her own instincts on these matters.

Whether or not it was true, Sango couldn't say. But she was sure that at least Kagome believed fully in what she was saying. For now, that would be enough.

"Okay," Sango said when they had sat silently for a long time, kicking their feet in the water bed. "Perhaps there are things I do not understand. The well, the jewel-I am not an expert on those. But some things simply don't make sense."

Kagome nodded. "Ask."

"Your meeting with Inuyasha," Sango said bluntly. "He just decided not to kill you. Even after you set the subjugation spell."

"Oh, he tried," Kagome chimed in smirking. "He just wasn't fast enough."

Sango looked at her pityingly. Obviously he had not really tried. From what she knew, subjugation was a very little practiced art, as the demon that was cast under the spell would spend the rest of their life hunting the caster down in order to rip them to pieces. If they were generous."Regardless, he stuck around. Why?"

Kagome hesitated. "There is…history between Inuyasha and the Shikon jewel." When Sango continued to look at her, Kagome flushed and looked away. "It's not my story to tell."

_Ah_. Sango looked back at the river.

She was getting used to these silences in conversations, the missing pieces. She and Kagome got along well on most days. They talked about a lot of day-to-day things that reminded Sango of days she'd spend swinging her legs on the porch as Kohaku practiced his throws. However, unlike Kohaku who confided everything to her, there were some topics that Kagome didn't like to talk about. One of them was Inuyasha.

From offhanded comments made by Miroku and Shippou, it seemed that Inuyasha had taken a human lover a long time ago. And it had ended badly.

It made her curious, hard as it was to admit it. Unfortunately, Kagome wouldn't say, and Sango had her pride. She wasn't about to go ask _him_.

There was a rustle of leaves to her left and Sango quickly whipped her head around. But it was only Shippou, peering around a tree. He seemed to be staring at Kagome with a bit of longing; he must have gotten bored playing with his toys and sought her out.

Kagome looked up too, then smiled. "Hey Shippou." She picked up one of her books. "Want to help?"

He was either really desperate to get away from the hanyou and monk or he was really missing Kagome because he nodded quickly and began to scamper over. When he passed Sango, however, he paused and frowned. She looked down at him warily.

"Sango…" he said, nose twitching, a tiny paw wringing his sleeve, "you're bleeding again."

Sango blinked, and looked at her lap, where her stomach wound still ached. Nothing. She reached around with a hand and tried to feel along her back. After some probing, her fingers touched wet fabric. She sighed.

"I see," she said tiredly, making to get up. "I'll take care of it."

When Kagome made to offer assistance, Sango waved her down and headed off in the direction of camp. There were some things Kagome did not like to talk about, but there were some things that Sango would not hear of. Helping her dress her wounds was one of them.

When she arrived back at camp, Miroku and Inuyasha seemed to be in some kind of argument. Argument was not the right word; Miroku seemed to be teasing Inuyasha rather solemnly and Inuyasha wasn't taking it well.

"Where is your sense of adventure?" Miroku was saying, poking Inuyasha's shoulder with his staff and irritating the hanyou. He seemed about to snap back something nasty when he spotted her. His nose twitched and his face turned solemn. Miroku turned, greeting her warmly, but she merely waved and headed to her pack. As she began rummaging through its contents, she could feel their heavy stares, likely fixed on the growing red on her robe.

She was bleeding, always bleeding. She wished it would stop. If only so they would stop staring and worse, pitying her.

As she collected her things, her conversation with Kagome flashed in her mind. She glanced under the sweep of her bangs, seeing that Miroku had returned to prodding Inuyasha's shoulder.

Inuyasha wasn't paying attention. He was still staring.

Sango narrowed her eyes.

The sun seared hot across Sango's neck as she shifted the strap of Hiraikotsu from digging deep into her collar bone. Beneath her yukata, her taijya suit clung and chaffed. She looked at Kagome strutting ahead with her large bag, skirt flapping freely, and bit back a scowl. All the walking was a waste of energy. She was used to the breath of the wind on her face as Kirara took to the air, watching the miles fall away into a stream of green and yellow leaves beneath a horizon hot and red and untouchable.

But those where also the days her back wouldn't split open like a ripe fruit from a little riding. Sango breathed shallowly, feeling the grip of her chest bandages. Her back still looked like a bloody mess, and it hadn't helped that her last change had been rather brutal. Sweat had caked into the fabric and she'd had to rip it off piece by piece, biting a leather cord the whole while. It would never heal if they kept getting into skirmishes like the one a few hours ago against ogres. Smoke bombs and iron blades only went so far with thick skinned demons. Only Hiraikotsu could cut through their hide-she'd barely managed it, much to her chagrin.

"There is a village, up ahead," Sango said abruptly from the back of their entourage. Kagome flipped around, head tilted to the side as she walked backwards. Inuyasha ignored her. Miroku stopped and leaned against his staff. His gaze was unreadable as she approached, but when she moved to pass him he smiled and stepped with her.

"Have you been there before?" he asked politely.

"A few times," Sango said, adjusting her strap. "They have a small fishery on the river." Her father had loved to stop by when they were in the area.

Miroku put his hand to his chin, squinting at the sky. "Salmon?"

Despite herself, her lips curled up. "Fresh."

He hummed, then clapped his hand. "I believe," he paused. "I believe I sense a dark cloud near by."

Sango blinked, brow wrinkling. She looked at Kagome for clarification, but the girl was just rolling her eyes, smiling. Inuyasha, however, whirled around.

"No you don't," he snapped. "We've only been on the road for a few hours and we haven't even passed through the valley yet. It's not even sun down!"

Sango grimaced, glancing at her own white knuckled grip. Miroku just shrugged, staff jingling. "Inuyasha, we can't make bad things come and go at our convince just because we wish them to."

Inuyasha's brows narrowed dangerously. "What the-you do that all the time!"

Kagome patted the strap of her strange bag. "I for one " she said, "could use the rest. This bag is killing me."

"Of course you would," Inuyasha said scathingly. Sango tensed, turning burning eyes on him. He continued, "that is what you get for packing so damn much."

"Necessities, Inuyasha!" Kagome snapped back. Then she turned to Sango, smiling. "Now where did you say the village was?"

"Over the hill if we take a left." She pointed ahead, where the path forked. In the distance, they could see the trail of smoke from many campfires.

"To the left," Miroku said and began walking. He passed Inuyasha without a glance. Kagome gave a little 'humph' and also stalked past. Inuyasha glared at their backs as if they had stabbed him, muttering curses to himself.

Sango moved to follow. As she passed the hanyou, Shippou scampered past her feet and crawled swiftly onto the hanyou's shoulder. He tugged on a lock of white hair.

"Quit your whining, Inuyasha," he said, then squeaked and jumped off as Inuyasha made a swipe at him.

"We're wasting damn time," the hanyou snarled.

Before she moved too far away to hear, she heard Shippou reply softly, "Don't be stupid…can't you smell it?"

Her grip on Hiraikotsu tightened.

* * *

><p>She drank too much. She'd known it, but somehow chasing the liquid in her cup had seemed a far better option then setting about washing her filthy, bloody clothes-again. Instead, she had settled for kneeling at the dinner table, fingers wrapped around her cup, watching Miroku make a fool of himself in front of dancing girls. Every time he would make a grab for their waists, they would titter and twirl away. Kagome kept giggling beside her, keeping up a rolling commentary. The fox lounged far too close. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the profile of the hanyou's back as he leaned against an open door frame staring moodily into the darkness.<p>

She'd felt a little claustrophobic, and her cup had been warm. As she drank, a cool hazy cloud had settled over her and it was damn frightening the sudden lack of care she felt about getting drunk among these people.

So she'd locked herself in a room until she came to her senses, retreating to the farthest corner and curling into a ball. Kagome had popped her head in a few times, but Sango's lack of response had sent her away. She was glad, despite herself. She just wanted to be alone, damn it. To think. If only she could actually think properly.

Sango closed her eyes, gripping her head. When she looked up again, there was a pair of gold eyes staring through the crack in the door.

She almost screamed. She almost threw a dagger at his face. At least her mind did. Her body didn't even budge.

"What?" she managed after a moment, swallowing around dry, cracked lips.

There was a rustle, then something tossed toward her. She flinched, but whatever it was it fell short, rolling near her feet with a thud.

It was a leather bag. It smelled strongly of greens.

She stared at it blearily. "What is it?"

"It will help your back," he grunted. When she made no move to touch it, he rolled his eyes. "Fine. Suffer. See if I care." He was gone.

Sango hiccuped, staring at the ground. She could barely discern the edge of the leather thong that held it closed. The leather looked polished. New.

After a moment, she snatched up the bag.

Too much to drink.

* * *

><p>After the haze of alcohol had faded, her mind had seemed unerringly sharp. Her thoughts had returned to the river, to her dream the night before. <em>A memory.<em>

Slipping out into the night had been pitifully easy, her silent steps out the door punctuated by Kagome's soft noises as she dreamed in her sleeping bag. Shippou had bunked with Miroku tonight, and without the yellow eyes of Inuyasha watching her every move, she had felt a deep tension unclench in her. One she hadn't known was even there, until it was gone.

From there, it had been quick work finding the old dilapidated shack on the edge of town. After five years, it still looked like one giant pissing hole. So did its occupant.

"Haven't seen you around these parts in a _long_ while," the man said, licking his fat lips and eyeing her silhouette. He mouthed the word 'long' in a way that made her stiffen. Stringy hair couldn't hide the grease and sweat smeared across his chin, nor the scars like finger marks on his cheek.

He was old and dirty and if he took another step towards her she would cut off his hand.

She kept her face blank. Giving openings to men like this was asking for trouble. "Information. Nothing else."

"Aww, don't be like that, Slayer. I-"

"_Excuse me_," she interrupted coldy. "Who _exactly _are you talking to?" She took a step forward through his door way. In the light of his fire pit, the black leather and bone armor seemed to gleam. As did the blade she was playing with in her hands. He took a step back.

"W-what do you want?" he growled.

She contemplated her blade until he began to sweat. Only then did she look at him, and what he saw in her face made him shrink back.

"…Have you heard the name Kagewaki?"


End file.
